


Meeting The Boyfriend Wasn't Meant To Be This Difficult

by MissLorettaC



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: 5 Times, Dad Javert, It's all fluff, M/M, it's fluff, javert as grantaire's dad, there's not enough of this in the world
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-03
Updated: 2015-09-24
Packaged: 2018-04-07 12:00:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4262511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissLorettaC/pseuds/MissLorettaC
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Javert had the perfect plan for meeting Grantaire's first proper boyfriend but it seemed the world had a different idea in mind.</p><p>Five Times Javert does NOT approve of cosmic timing, and one time he supposes he could live with it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Date

The blaring music from upstairs that greeted him as he stepped inside, in Javert’s opinion, justified him not shouting up an announcement of his safe return home. Letting the door close behind him, the detective barely spared a glance around him as he made his way straight to the dinner table and dropped his briefcase down onto it, falling into the nearest chair right after. The house hadn’t changed at all since he’d left that morning, apparent proof that his son hadn’t emerged from his room yet; something that barely surprised him after the night before.

Just as the song changed upstairs, Javert put his head on the table and sighed. He’d been preparing for this day all of Grantaire’s life. Meeting his first boyfriend. He knew exactly what he was going to do. He was going to stay in his uniform and when the doorbell rings he will take his time to answer, make them wait, let them know exactly who was in charge of the situation and the power he had to make sure his boy was kept safe. That was always the plan, it was how he’d always imagined the meeting to go. He could picture it now clearly in his mind as he listened to the dull thuds and creaks of the floorboards upstairs as Grantaire clattered around getting ready. Exactly like he had been doing since 7PM the night before.

Javert couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Grantaire so anxious to look his best, not even for the boy’s first date with this Enjolras he was so enamored with. It was to be a big night for both of them as after Enjolras picked Grantaire up they were leaving to meet the other boy’s parents. Javert knew this intimately now after hearing it all through dinner, and then three times through the night as Grantaire was interrogated for still being awake because _really Grantaire? It’s four in the morning!_ was not a valid incentive to go to bed. He then had the pleasure of two phone calls and half a dozen text messages from the young man demanding that his father leave work to bring him shopping before the dilemma was resolved by Grantaire himself who decided that a new outfit would make him look like he was trying too hard and this conversation was wasting time. This was apparently Javert’s fault. Needless to say, Javert was _tired_ which just wouldn’t do. He had a plan and dammit he’d been waiting too long to let his son’s antics take this moment away from him.

Rather than contemplate the trail of destruction only a college student could leave behind them that was inevitably growing upstairs, Javert tried to rouse himself by picturing how their meeting would go. His small smirk was knocked off his face when he woke with a grunt to the sound of the front door closing and it was enough of a shock to force Javert out of his seat. Gaze snapping to the clock ticking innocently away above him, he couldn’t keep his surprise off his face, unable to believe he had fallen asleep for over an hour. It was his phone beeping with a message that forced him to tear his eyes from the clock and stare instead at the text message from his husband showing a picture of his own sleeping face, pressed into the table – and dear God, was that drool? – shining back at him. The mocking caption of “The law has to rest sometimes, right sweetheart? ‘Taire says to wake up x” was vehemently ignored as he squeezed the phone tight in his hand. This wasn’t over. And worse yet, now it was personal. Next time he’d be ready, he thought as he texted Jean back to “DELETE IT” before pulling himself together to start dinner.


	2. The Apron

Okay, so the first attempt hadn’t gone to plan but that was alright, he could still recover from this. All traces of the photo, to the best of his knowledge, had since been deleted and despite over a week passing he had yet to hear another mention of Enjolras making a second appearance. This was fine, it gave him time to _plan_. Now he had to _prove_ himself to the boy before all else and that was a minor problem but he was a high ranking figure in the police, there was very little he _actively_ had to do to instil some level of fear and respect into him. At the end of the day, no matter how Grantaire sang the boy’s praises and glorified his strength, Enjolras was still a college student and Javert was a seasoned detective. If anything, the respect and fear should already be there, he just had to encourage it. As soon as he was done with that, he could set about making Enjolras prove himself to _him_.

When they had first adopted Grantaire, the child had been quiet but brilliant. Both his new parents supported him, gave him stability and encouraged his pursuits, remaining proud, if apprehensive of his prospects, as he went into further education of art and classics. They were both immensely proud of how Grantaire had grown and Javert wasn’t a fan of the reports his now-twenty year old was bringing home about the blond leader, his sharp tongue, and his wicked words. He didn’t know yet how the shift from “Apollo” to “Enjolras, my boyfriend” had come about but he’d be damned if he didn’t find out. Javert took care of his babies, even after they had decided they no longer needed the protection. Even, like now, if one of them decides they need help baking.

Javert wasn’t a fool, he knew Cosette needed exactly no help from him in the kitchen, especially when Jean was home. However, Javert also wasn’t about to deprive himself of the smile Cosette always had on her face whenever he relented and donned ‘his’ apron and did his best to lend a hand.

That was, unfortunately, how he ended up here, staring blankly at the blond boy standing in his doorway after being relegated as the least useful in the kitchen and the most eligible to be assigned door-answering duty when the bell rang. Keeping his back straight and his pride and dignity held tightly around him, raising an eyebrow at the blond whose gaze inevitably flitted down at the pink monstrosity he was currently wearing, Javert barely had enough time to open his mouth to question the boy’s presence before Grantaire bounded past. A shouted farewell, cheerfully answered from the kitchen, and a jostled shoulder and both boys were gone from sight. Javert was left to stew over yet another failed attempt to interrogate the boy. Tightening the straps of the apron around him, the less-than-pleased parent re-joined his family in the kitchen and brooded in the corner, holding, mixing or tasting whatever was handed to him as he tried to think of yet another way he could fix this. It was too important to him – and his family, of course – to not know exactly what kind of boy Enjolras was, what his intentions were, and exactly what would happen to him if they were less than pure. The only thing that was certain at this moment, however, was that cupcakes did not count as a good plotting food.


	3. The Coffee

Javert didn’t think he could trust a twenty year old who drank black coffee. This was the third time in as many weeks that Javert had encountered the blond ‘revolutionary’. It was simply unfair that the encounter took place in Monsieur Madeleine Café and he refused to accept that seeing him here was coincidental. His husband had banned him from confronting his customers and unfortunately Enjolras was included in this. That didn’t stop him from glaring though.

When the boy had first arrived, he had appeared comfortable and relaxed, sure of his surroundings and the people around him which had triggered a glare in Jean’s direction. It appeared Jean and Enjolras had not only met but were familiar with each other, familiar enough that Enjolras’s order was almost ready for him by the time he reached the counter. His feelings, he was sure, were making themselves very well known to Jean who was shooting him warning looks between his smiles to his customers.

What did a student need black coffee during the summer for anyway? What was he doing? He refused to believe that was normal. But he was torn. Maybe he was grasping at straws but he knew maddeningly little about this young man. Black coffee was what he himself drank, he personally thought that adding anything to it was a waste, and he knew that if Enjolras had come in and ordered anything frilly he wouldn’t have liked him any better, but he couldn’t start liking him just because he had decent taste in coffee. Could he? He might be reading too much into this.

Finally he turned his glare from his husband and to the student, glowering darkly at him over his cup. The man in question was taking a sip of his own drink and kept a stony face as he met Javert’s eye before giving a polite nod in greeting and leaving the building hurriedly. Javert couldn’t help but feel proud about that, smirking a little at the boy’s retreating figure until a rag hit the back of his head, making him flinch minutely and turned to glare at Cosette.

“Be nice!” She called as she went back to work, swiping the rag off the floor and waving it in his face, forcing a smile onto his face before bouncing away.

“’Be nice,’ she says. I'm always nice.” He muttered to himself finishing his coffee and bringing it up to the counter to give to Jean and, after receiving his kiss goodbye, left to go back to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just couldn't resist calling the Cafe that


	4. The Truce

“Quiet, they’ll hear you.” The hushed voice wouldn’t have been loud enough to wake him, but the subsequent giggles, and the tumble of a body falling through a window that had prompted the laughing whisper were more than enough to have the detective sitting up in bed. Javert couldn’t help but groan in annoyance as his son’s voice carried through the wall in a low murmur, joined by a clearer voice that could only belong to Enjolras. While the boy’s diction no doubt made him perfect for the speeches Grantaire wouldn’t shut up about, he was less adept at late night, secret conversations. Javert honestly couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or not. Sure, he now knew that the boy was here and that Grantaire had snuck him in without permission, but what if they started… He was putting an end to this right now.

Javert had already swung his legs over the bed when Grantaire’s muffled laughter sounded from the next room, followed soon after by a whine from his boyfriend.

“Stop laughing, it was horrible! I know he doesn’t like me and I panicked and ordered it. I had to run out the shop so he wouldn’t see me gag. I’d never had coffee black before, I didn’t think it would be that bad.”

Grantaire’s laugh got louder for a moment and then was smothered after an onslaught of rustling that he guessed was a scramble for a pillow. God above, they were truly some of the worst sneakers he’d ever encountered but at least he knew he’d never have to worry about either of them turning to burglary. They’d be caught before they even reached the house. Rolling his eyes, he kept listening, straining to make sense of Grantaire’s mumbling.

“It was your papa’s idea.” The blond was grumbling. “He said it might help because it’s what your dad drinks but now I think he was just giving me his own little warning. Your parents are something else, R.”

Javert couldn’t help but feel proud about that, glancing fondly at his sleeping partner. The pride disappeared entirely, though, when he heard Grantaire’s voice rise slightly, an insecure laugh escaping his son’s mouth as he apologised for them, questioning if they were too much for him. Javert ground his teeth and something like a growl rumbled deep in his throat as he glared at the wall, daring the blond to be anything other than supportive. Consequences be damned, if he didn’t like this answer he was going in there and dragging the boy out by his hair. If Enjolras had truly changed in his treatment of his son then this was the only chance he was getting to prove it.

His anger, however, ended up being for nothing as the heard the blond immediately jump in to reassure Grantaire of his feelings.

“They’re not too much, I promise, Taire. I’d face a million times worse if it means I get to stay here with you.” An alright answer, Javert allowed, but not great. “Your parents… your _dad_ … I know they mean a lot to you and I’m not going to quit until they like me.” Better. “I’m in this all the way and you’re worth everything they can throw at me.” He supposed the boy could stay for now but he still didn’t like him. “I love you, Taire.” And he really wasn’t meant to hear that.

From the silence in the other room, Javert assumed that all three of them were surprised by that declaration and he leaned away from the wall uncomfortably, unsure of what to do now. He heard Grantaire return the confession and he sighed to himself, letting go of the fantasy that Grantaire would forget about the blond any time soon. His little boy was in love. Next he would be leaving home and probably in with Enjolras and before he knew it he would only ever see him at holidays or the odd birthday and Javert had never even spoken to this boy! How could he let him anywhere near his son when for all he knew the boy could break his heart in an instant? He was half tempted to wake Jean, desperate to tell him, maybe sway him to his side before Grantaire told him himself but he knew there was no point. He knew Jean would be on their side the moment he knew so he let his husband sleep and frowned.

It didn’t feel right to barge into Grantaire’s room now, not after that conversation, but he still wasn’t happy that Enjolras was in there with him. He would let it slide this one time though, he decided, lying back down in the bed with a huff and glared at the ceiling to try and block out the now softer voices in the next room. He still didn’t like this Enjolras but he supposed he could give him a chance, for Grantaire’s sake. The pair of them were really in love then there was nothing really left that Javert could do to stop them. Scowling to himself, he tried to get back to sleep but when the first moan sounded through the wall he didn’t hesitate to reach over to the table beside his bed and rummage over the clutter there. He waited until all sounds cut off in the other room before reaching up to the lamp beside him – an ancient thing with the loudest, stiffest switch he’d ever known– and turned it on, smirking to himself at the immediate fumbling, cursing and then satisfying thud of someone scrambling (falling) out of the window. At his other side, Jean frowned and turned his head away, covering his eyes.

“What are you doing?” He groaned, squinting blearily at his husband.

“Sorry, I was going to get some water.” He answered, his smirk still in place as he leaned over to kiss Jean’s forehead. “I’ll turn it off.”

He did as he said and quietly padded out of the room, leaving his grumbling husband behind. He _had_ conspired with Enjolras behind his back after all, he thought as he made his way down the stairs, and Javert believed he deserved a little bit of revenge. Pleased with his night’s work, he had his drink and went back to bed, just happy that he didn’t have to work in the morning.


	5. The Car

“You’re _never_ seeing him again!” Javert raged, his knuckles white from his grip on the steering wheel as he ignored his son’s protests from the backseat. “I could ignore the sneaking around, I could ignore his- his _politics,_ but _riots_ , Grantaire? Phone calls from _my work place_ at three in the morning saying you need picked up because you were arrested? _Lying_ to me and your father- telling us you were staying at a friend’s? He’s no good! He is a _bad_ influence! You’re not going to his meetings anymore, you’re not going to see him anymore, and if I hear you’re anywhere near him again I’m grounding you. Do you understand me?” He demanded, turning to glare at his son briefly before looking back at the road.

“You can’t tell me who I can and can’t date, dad, I’m an adult! You can’t-“ Grantaire protested but Javert cut him off.

“I can and you will listen to me and do as you’re told!” Javert snapped, hitting the palm of his hand off the wheel. “I will not have my son running around like a hooligan because his boyfriend does it! I do not go to work every day, trying to stop people from breaking the law only to come home to a son with a criminal record! I have to work with these people, Grantaire! I have to see them every day knowing that they have arrested a member of my own family! What will it be next? Will I just get a text from one of my colleagues letting me know you’re in again? Will I be picking you up from the riots myself? Maybe I should just leave you there! Give me someone to talk to while I’m at work! Is that how it’s going to be? Answer me, Grantaire!”

“It’s not like that!” Grantaire protested hotly, punching the back of Javert’s chair before throwing himself back into his seat. “Enjolras isn’t like that! It didn’t start as a riot. These people showed up and it got violent. We tried to stop it but they were just there to fight, they didn’t care what we had to say. Enjolras is a good man and a good leader,” Grantaire insisted, “and you would know that if you would just _meet_ with him instead of playing all these stupid games-“

“Oh yes, the boy is such a gentleman.” He put no effort into preventing the heavy sarcasm from entering his voice as he pulled up to the house. “I couldn’t help but notice he wasn’t sitting there next to you in that cell.” He snarled, shutting off the car and growling as Grantaire immediately stormed out, slamming the car door behind him before stalking towards the house. The living room light was on, Jean no doubt waiting up for them despite having work the next morning. Grantaire took one look at his papa before running up the stairs and slamming the door of his bedroom behind him.

“Grantaire!” Javert roared up the stairs after him, making his way towards the steps but the sound of his husband calling his name stopped him. Turning to look at the man, Javert was slightly ashamed to see the disapproving look he was getting in return. “I don’t know what to do about that boy. He refuses to listen.”

Jean sighed and stepped towards him. “He’s growing up, he’s not meant to listen. God knows I didn’t when I was his age.” He pointed out and gave Javert a hard look, letting it fall off his face when Javert refused to look at him. “He loves us, and you know he respects us, but if you keep treating him like a delinquent child he’s going to turn away from us.” Anything he would have added was lost when a small thud sounded from outside, making them both frown and turn to face direction it had come from.

Realisation made Javert’s face fall first as he shifted his gaze from the wall to the ceiling, noting a suspicious lack of noise coming from Grantaire’s room. He was about to move for the door when Jean grabbed his arm and shook his head. “Don’t, he’s a sensible boy and he doesn’t want to be here, he won’t do anything stupid. We’ll talk to him about it tomorrow. Civilly. With minimal yelling.” He ended with a warning, moving to the door himself but only going outside to check that the spare key was there for Grantaire to let himself back in before locking up the house again. “He’s a good boy, Javert. You know that. But you need to remember it more often.” Kissing Javert goodnight, Jean went back upstairs, tired and upset at the turn of the evening. Javert himself stayed downstairs, hunched in his armchair with his head in his hands well into the morning, thinking over everything that had happened and been said and regretting almost all of it.


	6. The Car Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The long awaited (and severely one-sided conversation) between son's father and son's boyfriend

“Dad?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Javert cut him off, too tired to be angry and more exasperated than anything else. In the back of the car, Grantaire bit his lip to supress a laugh as Enjolras fidgeted next to him, looking between his boyfriend next to him and the boy’s father, caught between amused and concerned.

Both boys had seen better days with his son sporting a spectacular black eye and the bottom half of Enjolras’s face streaked with the blood that had previously been pouring from his bruised nose.

“You two- You just- I don’t even understand _how_ -“ Javert tried to start, each time breaking off his train of thought, frustrated. “You _know_ my position- if you needed help planning- An _illegal_ rally, Grantaire? Really? _Really_? And you! Junior Wonder-Boy, do you really think that was a good idea? Do you?” He accused, locking eyes with Enjolras in the rear-view mirror and raising his eyebrows expectantly as Grantaire dug his knee into the blonde’s thigh in warning. “An illegal rally, not asking for any help, do you really think that was the best course of action?”

“No, sir.” Enjolras replied at great length, all the while with Javert’s darting yet persistent eyes on him, checking the road just a frequently as he checked Enjolras’s face for any sign of remorse. Though Enjolras’s eyes were fixed pointedly on the ground and his lips pressed into a tight line, Javert had heard enough stories about him to accept that this was as high a level of respect as he was likely to get in this situation so he accepted it and returned it in his own way.

“I’d think not.” Javert huffed, pulling off of the road and into their street. “I think we can leave this evening behind us for now, I don’t want to bring any arguments into the house but for Lord’s sake consult me in the future? That counts for the pair of you.” He warned before sighing and deflating (he refused to call it _softening_. He wasn’t soft) slightly as he made eye-contact with Grantaire in the mirror, rolling his eyes and grumbling at the mouthed ‘thank you’ that his son sent his way.

“Let’s all just go in and make sure neither of you have anything broken.” He huffed gruffly as he pulled into the driveway and parked the car. “You take your coffee black if I remember correctly, don’t you, Enjolras?” Javert asked without turning his head. “Wonderful.” He continued, ignoring Enjolras’s stuttering in the backseat as he got out of the car. “Hurry up, Grantaire, you are completely grounded after this so you’d better make the evening count.” Shutting the door after delivering his message, Javert all but strutted to the house, his smile when he spotted Jean watching from the window equally tired and smug. “And Enjolras? Phone someone? Tell them you’re here… And try to keep quiet this time.”

As Javert left the blushing young couple behind him, he finally appeased his frustrated mind with the knowledge that even after the unfortunate encounters of the last couple of weeks, he still made it perfectly clear that he wasn’t a force to be reckoned with. Not when it came to _his_ family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much, everyone, for your support, interest and saintly patience when waiting for this bloody fic to finally end. Expect at some point in time for Marius to enter the picture. That should be fun if nothing else XD


End file.
